The other day, I couldn’t find my fine-mesh strainer to drain the acini de pepe that had just reached al dente perfection. Panicking, I grabbed my big-holed colander, and dumped those peppercorn-size pasta balls right in, hoping somehow they would unify and clump into one big pasta mass, thereby remaining in the colander.
That did not happen.
Recently, my brain is like a colander with too-big holes, and my mental pasta slips right down the drain. Sure, my brain-colander can still contain larger forms of pasta: I can remember the names of my children; the way to make coffee; the place I keep my secret stash of chocolate; other stuff I can’t recall right now. But the smaller, non-essentials slip into the sewer.
Sometimes Ron (the mean guy in my head) taunts me and whispers, Early-onset Alzheimer’s, perhaps? But I think I have memory issues simply because my brain overfloweths with Life-stuff: a husband, a marriage, two teenagers, a loco dog, a very messy house, a basement remodel, a handful of dear friends, my parents, my in-laws, the teenagers’ cross country-track-swimming-soccer-orchestra events, a new teaching job, five classes of whip-smart 7th graders, the 7th graders’ numerous ungraded writing assignments, my novel-in-progress, numerous doctor/dentist/eye doctor appointments, multiple athletic forms, field trip forms, orchestra trip forms; countless discussions with the teenagers about drugs, vaping, drinking, drinking and driving, driving and texting, drinking and texting … it’s all wonderful, dizzying Life-stuff. Inevitably things slip down the drain. [Read more…]